Paris and Beirut Attacks: My Thoughts on Terrorism and the Middle East

It’s Monday today, which seems to be my new days to post. I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging more recently, but with NaNoWriMo and the #prefunk promotion I’ve been doing for The Devil Within, I haven’t had much time. Plus, last week was so busy again. I wanted to write my thoughts on Paris on Saturday, but I woke up and watched Netflix instead.

After watching what happened in Paris and Beirut, I felt sad. This time of year always makes me feel a little sad anyway. Another chapter ending, another one beginning. Thoughts drift to friends I’ve lost from growing apart or something more permanent like death. And then on Friday the 13th a section of Paris was bombed and a lot of young people lost their life. Before that, Beirut was targeted by fundamentalists terrorists. I’m at a loss for words. Peace in the Middle East is as elusive as it ever was. Still fighting a war that has gone on since the beginning of time. A war against the lifestyle of the Western World. A war set on keeping people in the dark instead of enlightening them through education, women’s rights, and progress.

The world is reeling from these brutal attacks, but also standing together. And everyone is talking about it, arguing about it, but bringing awareness back to the situation at hand. Innocent loss of life in both countries means more instability in our world and a greater chance for war.

Unfortunately, a people who has been escaping terrorism in their own country is taking blame for some of these acts: The Syrians. Syrians who have been fleeing this type of violence are now feeling the heat for what happened, since one of the Paris attackers claimed to be seeking asylum. In an article by the NY Times, Syrian refugee Hussam Al Roustam said of relocating to New Jersey, “It’s like taking someone from a very small, dark room to a very, very big world.” And this thought lingered in my head over the weekend as I worried about the implications of this attack on Syrian migration toward  peace and safety. In case you forgot, most Syrian refugees are women and children and they are risking their lives to find a safer place to live. (Bodies of Syrian Refugees Wash Ashore – This Link Contains Disturbing Images)

I don’t pretend to know what to do about ISIS or the whole situation in the Middle East. I want peace and stability as much as anyone. This war on terrorism isn’t just in other countries. But not all the people in the Middle East are to blame. There are a lot of terrorists, yes, but in Middle Eastern countries there are also a lot of level-headed people who want peace as much as any Westerner…maybe even more. It’s just finding out how to achieve that without resorting to more war and more loss of innocent life. It seems impossible to get there when you’re dealing with someone who would blow themselves up for their cause.

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Frayne’s Sacrifice

What else could F be for but Flash Fiction? Today’s story was done for Finish That Thought and for Mid-Week Blues-Buster. I killed two birds with one stone. Both of these were difficult for me today. The song on MWBB didn’t really inspire me, and I don’t consider myself a sci-fi writer at all, so using an alien protagonist for Finish That Thought was difficult for me.

Frayne’s Sacrifice
@laurenegreene
490 words

It was the night of a blood red moon. His fourth trip to Earth to look for Basha. Frayne hated this place. Last time he’d come, he landed right in a drone path. Took all his power to steer his ship to safety. He couldn’t understand a whole world intent on killing each other.

He stumbled around in the dark, staring up at the moon. The last of four blood red moons from 2014 to 2015. He knew the Christians of the earth thought this was religiously significant. Frayne laughed at that, shaking his head at their lack of astronomical knowledge.  They’d been using Christianity to explain natural phenomena for centuries. He didn’t know what Basha saw in these earth people, and he was sick of looking for her. She needed to take her rightful place next to him on the throne of Planet Bingo, where they would rule and reproduce as necessary, and then their little spawn would take over after their time was up.  Until he found her, their duty could not be fulfilled and he would feel incomplete.

The red barn stood at the edge of the field.  The farmhouse was in the distance, lights dancing in the windows. He snuck up to the house, and folded down upon himself until his knees were touching the grass. He placed his hands on the edge of the window frame and peeked into the house.

Basha was in the kitchen, making a meal. She was moving as he’d never seen anyone move before, swaying her hips. The human man walked up behind her, and what was he holding? Was that a baby human? Frayne saw the paleness of the baby’s skin and the truth hit him like a penny falling from a hundred foot building. Basha had reproduced with this earthling. He glanced back through the window, and as he was about to turn and walk away the screen door opened.

“Frayne—come out from behind there. I can sense your presence, you know.”

Frayne unfolded his seven foot body and stomped over to Basha.

“We were to be married. You could have had this on Bingo.”

She shook her head, and he noticed she was holding the half-earthling, its little fists waving in the air.

“I could never have this, Frayne. The earthlings believe in family. There’s is a love so eternal; I can feel it in my core.”

“You’ve seen the wars, same as I have.”

“They fight because they’re so passionate. It is something you could never understand, unless you let yourself live as one. They love as no others love.”

“I don’t understand this thing you call love.”

“It’s a feeling—something you can’t touch.”

“I’ll tell the council you died,” Frayne said.

“You’ll do that for me?”

“It’s what you want.”

She walked back toward the dim light of the farmhouse, but turned around to look at Frayne one more time.

“That’s love, Frayne.”